


Quite the Same

by TwistedK



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8625112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedK/pseuds/TwistedK
Summary: Kakashi always barging in at Iruka's.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s always quite the same regardless of how different each time is.

The first few times have caught Iruka off guard. Not necessarily because Kakashi had shown up barely conscious one night and passed out muddy on his floor. Or that he was casually perusing Iruka’s bookshelf by the time he had come home. Or that more often than not Kakashi comes in like a damn thief in the night only to lift the covers while Iruka slept, get under it, and take up more than half of his bed by morning.

It had caught him off guard because Kakashi had come to him at all.

“Don’t you have an apartment of your own?” Iruka sighs. His arms are filled with papers to grade and Kakashi meets him at his own door.

“I do,” he says. They stare at each other for a bit.

“How was your mission?” He makes his way inside. It’s a pleasantry. Iruka needs a moment to feel like a normal person. Not a person whose home is regularly broken into by this jounin.

“Fine.” As always. Another pleasantry.

They go about their evening as if this is nothing strange. And really, it isn't. Iruka doesn’t comment on the bandage around Kakashi’s neck and Kakashi stays out of his way as he goes about grading papers in his living room. He lies down on the floor, reading, occasionally shifting for a more comfortable position. He chuckles to himself every once in a while and that's something Iruka's gotten used to as well. The first few times were creepy but now it sounds almost comforting. Like a subtle sign that Kakashi, too, is feeling like a normal person again.

Iruka eventually gets up to make dinner and Kakashi has the courtesy to offer to help. Usually, Iruka prefers he doesn’t. He’s a guest after all.

“I’m out of eggs,” he mumbles to himself. They’ll make do without. But Kakashi is already at the door, putting on his shoes.

“How many do you need?” he asks. A dozen should do, Iruka tells him. And somehow, something else spills out.

“You know,” he starts, hesitant, because Iruka has never been good with jokes. Kakashi pauses, pulling the mask up to his face. “If you’re going to be here this often, you might want to start paying rent.”

Kakashi doesn’t respond right away and Iruka thinks he’s not coming back with the eggs. Or ever.

“Okay,” Kakashi says instead. “Just eggs?”

He almost drops the ladle. And he’s probably gaping like a fish. But he manages to make a sound that’s supposed to mean ‘yes’. Kakashi is back not 15 minutes later and Iruka has taken that time to compose himself.

“About earlier,” he says as he takes the eggs. “I was just kidding.”

“Oh.” Kakashi’s shoulders drop. Iruka aches.

Pleasantries are turning very quickly into misunderstandings. They stare at each other again and Iruka’s head is reeling with ways to amend the situation. He meant he was kidding about the rent, but that Kakashi is always welcome here. Even though he has yet to figure out why the man keeps coming in the first place and why he is oddly all right with it.

“My apologies,” Kakashi smiles, hand already poised to cover his face again. Iruka wishes he could cover his, too. And again, something spills out of him.

He reaches up and stops Kakashi. His hand is cold and unfamiliar and the touch is awkward for both of them. They pull away almost instantly, but not hurriedly. Kakashi looks like he’s expecting something from Iruka. His head tilts slightly. Hoping, maybe.

“What I meant was, welcome home.”

And this is different. Kakashi has never come to his place like this but he came anyway and that’s always quite the same.


	2. Chapter 2

An unusually long break between missions finds them together at the dinner table every evening for four days straight and quickly Iruka learns that Kakashi is a pleasure to live with. He helps put the dishes away and fills the bath with scalding hot water after he showers so Iruka can soak afterwards. Kakashi mostly keeps to himself and his books while Iruka works on papers until late. He no longer pauses when Kakashi meets him at the door at the end of the day. It’s quiet, and a little cramped, but nice. The man still takes more than half of the bed but with winter closing in, the warmth is appreciated.  

It’s one thing for Kakashi’s body to become a familiar curve against Iruka and quite another thing when, again, like a thief he steals a soft kiss in the middle of the night and disappears into the darkness. Iruka doesn’t hear from him for weeks.

He has half a mind to be upset when he turns at the sound of his door clicking shut and Kakashi is there.

The images of Kakashi with his sharingan gone dark and blank, laid in some unnamed land for some cleaning crew to pick up overfill him like a malignant chakra. It’s oozing from him, for more days than he thought was comfortable, this dread that he built up for himself like a fool. And like a proper fool, he’s drowning in it right in front of Kakashi.

These things are to be expected in their line of work. Kakashi’s especially. Occupational hazards and all. Iruka knows better.  

“You,” he starts. Iruka has to clench his jaw and grit his teeth, hoping it will grind away what he’s about to say to something less insane and selfish as domestic bliss.

“It cannot be helped,” Kakashi says simply. Because simply, like that, duty calls and they all must heed it.

It offers no comfort and Iruka is forced to understand that comfort is not being offered. He is being reminded, as a jounin’s responsibility must be to chuunin. They all stray from the path of their profession sometimes and it is a senior’s responsibility to remind them. Kakashi, to his credit, does it gently.

But Iruka right now is a normal person with normal emotions he cannot seem to reign in. Kakashi, with blood still caked under his fingernails, is not quite normal yet. His good eye is still sharp and skittish, his chakra coiled around himself tightly like a wound up snake. Iruka wishes for a moment that it can, in fact, be helped. That once Kakashi is back with a book and a hot meal, comfort will be found.

He decides against it. He stops holding his breath. He is asking for too much.

“You should go home and rest,” Iruka says kindly, eyeing the drip of blood past Kakashi’s thumb. “Unless you need help with that before you go.”

Kakashi looks at him and before anticipation can build, he looks away. “It’s not mine.”

He turns and leaves and Iruka simmers until it’s time for bed. Kakashi does not come through the window that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Iruka rarely gets sent to missions these days. When he comes home from one that had cost the life of a colleague, he chalks it up to nerves that uneasiness in his bedroom. It's a normal dose of paranoia to feel like someone is still watching you in your sleep. He closes his eyes and decides to worry about bleeding on his sheets in the morning.

But the feeling doesn't quite subside as the days go by, even though it doesn't happen every night. He'll lay in bed and wake up early in the morning, not remembering having fallen asleep, to a slight shift in the air. Just subtle enough to be known but nothing to be alarmed with. At first he thinks the new hokage is more worrisome than she lets on and has the ANBU patrolling the village. But ANBU would not quietly close a forgotten bedroom window in the middle of a windy night.

He knows for sure it's Kakashi when he sleeps without interruption in the month that the jounin is sent out of the village for a mission. Iruka doesn't worry this time. Kakashi is a grown man, a capable man. He has no use for people worrying about him. So he goes about his business. He goes on dates and brings someone home one evening. The presence is there when they're scrambling across his apartment, clumsily taking off clothes between kisses and promises. Just there perched outside his window, Iruka knows. A sudden shift, a small spike in chakra breaks Iruka and his guest apart.

"Ah, sorry," Iruka chuckles. He's turned on enough that it sounds genuine and lets his guest assume it's a ward. By the time they stumble into bed, the presence is gone. 

They cross paths in the Mission Room the day after and it's a well-rehearsed play. Kakashi will hand in his report late and Iruka will reprimand him and remind him, for the seventeenth time, that he had forgotten to fill out the form completely. Kakashi will put on what he can only assume as a public face of coolness and apologize with a slight tilt to his head. And like a well-rehearsed play, they say their lines except this time the scene ends with Iruka sliding the stamped form across the table, leaving Kakashi's hand held out in mid-air.

"Thank you for your service. Next." Iruka doesn't meet Kakashi's eye, holding his chakra as still as he could manage. He blames fatigue. He has nothing to embarrassed about.

They start to see more of each other often. More often than the times Kakashi had made himself at home at his place. The Mission Room, the Hokage's office, Ichiraku, and even the Fiddle Leaf when Iruka needs a hard drink at the end of a long day. He's starting to think it's more coincidences than normal.

"May I?" Kakashi asks, poised over the seat beside him at the stool. Iruka nods, regretting it instantly when he realizes they are the only ones at the bar. Kakashi orders a sake and as soon as the bartender places a bottle and a cup in front of him he adds, "Another cup, kindly."

Iruka acknowledges him with a tilt of his empty glass. It's an awkward affair pouring the drink, not quite knowing who will pour first. Kakashi takes the initiative and pours. It's a trick of the alcohol, Iruka thinks, when he sees the nervous ripple of sake in his cup. Definitely the alcohol when he overpours Kakashi's drink and spills some on his hand. 

An apology gets stilted when Kakashi pulls his mask down and licks his thumb. It was unnecessary to look at Iruka while he does but the moment passes before Iruka can dwell on it.

"Cheers," Kakashi says. Not very cheerful at all but at least it snaps Iruka out of staring.

There is no small talk between them. There never has been. But the company, though quiet, turns comfortable as always. And Kakashi's presence calms to a subtle glow of chakra. Not unlike the one perched outside Iruka's bedroom some nights. He's too curious to be upset at the intrusion. And somewhere at the back of his mind, he likes that it doesn't let him miss Kakashi.

When he finishes his second cup, he turns to Kakashi to ask if he'd like another bottle. He's been staring he thinks. Kakashi, as usual, breaks the moment first and orders them another. And another. Iruka is properly drunk when the bar does final call. Surprisingly, so is Kakashi. They lean on each other slightly as they walk out. 

"Quit hanging out on my roof," Iruka whispers. It spills out like sick after too much to drink. "It's creepy." 

It's not. But he's a mean drunk. "Okay," Kakashi says. The drawl sounds very much like disappointment.

"If you're going to be a creep, do it inside instead of sitting out there in the cold like a fool."

Kakashi's shoe scrapes on the ground to a stop. Iruka turns but he's gone by then. Somehow he makes it home. He wakes up with a hangover and flowers wrapped in paper on his living room table. It looks like they've wilted from being left there all day. He doesn't see Kakashi for another week until he's woken up in the middle of the night to the covers being lifted, replaced by a tired man.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes restlessness isn't brought home like a bad kink in the neck after spying from a tree for three days in a row. Or like a blood stain caked on the frayed edges of a torn pair of pants. Or a new scar in skin and in bone and memory. Sometimes, it's just a bored jounin ordered to mandatory leave after a taxing mission.

Iruka understands. But it makes him want to throw out this guest nonetheless. For the fifth time, Kakashi rolls over on the floor to a different position. The way he holds the copy of Icha Icha looks tiring. Iruka hopes this is what does it. The noise isn't distracting. It's the constant moving about, the shuffling. Like a drip of a leaky roof. He goes back to grading papers on the coffee table. 

Kakashi grunts and turns over again.

“Stop,” Iruka snaps. 

Kakashi apologizes quietly and gets up, to leave, likely. That’s not unusual. Iruka’s known to wear his chakra on his sleeve and he imagines it spikes when he needs space, pushing Kakashi out of his apartment.

But Iruka blocks his way with an arm reaching to couch behind him. A throw pillow drops on his chest. He can feel Kakashi staring at him but the papers on his table are still wanting for attention so he goes back to work. Kakashi shifts on the floor, now with a pillow under his head. 

“Better?” 

Kakashi hums and it shuts him up for good while and Iruka manages to work through the papers. The afternoon is gone when he puts his pen down.

“Are you done?”

The question comes carefully, Kakashi watching at him from the floor, the book set aside. 

“Are you hungry?” Because what else could it be? Iruka panics a little bit because he doesn’t know. And the observing is unsettling. 

Kakashi shakes his head, just gets up but not up enough to stand. Just enough to crawl to Iruka. In surprise, Iruka’s body sprawls open, clumsy, poised to jump away, out of the way of whatever this is coming to him. 

“Excuse me.” Kakashi drops to his lap, gently. His hair is wiry, Iruka discovers, prickling through his pants and against his thigh. Kakashi breathes and it’s almost a sigh. Not audible enough to sound but heavy enough that when his breath drops, Iruka feels the rest of his body follow. 

His, meaning Iruka’s. His shoulders drop and there’s a tightness that uncoils between them. Sometimes, restlessness just comes. They are, after all, just people. And like always, it needs to go at some point.

“Better?” Kakashi asks.


	5. Chapter 5

It is a well-known fact that Naruto Uzumaki's spirit is indestructable. His body, however, is just that: a body. So when a report arrives at Iruka's desk listing his former student as out of commission after a Class B mission, he fights a hollow sickness in his stomach for hours. He almost teleports out of the mission room as soon as he is dismissed but opts for a brisk walk to the hospital instead. 

He's survived worse, Iruka tells himself. He almost stops by some bushes on the side of the road to throw up but makes it to the hospital without surrendering his lunch.

Naruto is not in the intensive care wing thankfully. Iruka runs up the stairs and nearly slides the door off the wall to his room. He does, however, run into a solid wall of a person.

"I'm sorry, Iruka-sensei."

The last time Kakashi has said his name was in the middle of a very heated and very public argument back during the chuunin exams announcement. 

Iruka stammers. The corners of Kakashi's eye crinkles with a smile.

"Iruka-sensei!" Naruto beams at him from the room. Bandaged, worse for wear, but cheerful nonetheless. And just like that the hollow in his gut is gone. He makes his way inside, almost forgetting Kakashi is still there.

"Sorry," he mumbles, steps to the side at the same time and same direction Kakashi does to make way for him. "Ah, sorry," he chuckles again.

He steps to the other side. Kakashi does the same. 

"Here," Kakashi gently grabs him by the shoulders, steps to the side, and Iruka forgets the embarrassment as soon as Naruto calls to him. They chat and promises of ramen as soon as he's better are made. When visiting hours are over, Iruka finds Kakashi on a bench in the hallway, a copy of _Icha Icha_ in hand.

He rises to his feet when he sees Iruka and Iruka feels a little lightheaded again for some reason.

"I suppose I should thank you," Iruka starts. "It seems you were right in nominating them for the chuunin exams after all."

  
"He would have pestered me and you about it until the next exam anyway. And you were his teacher before I was. You got him that far." Iruka feels his cheeks warm this time.

They stand there in the empty hallway for a moment until Iruka nods goodbye. Kakashi catches him by the wrist and lets go almost immediately. He hesitates. "Would you like to get ramen? Naruto kept talking about it earlier."

Iruka accepts the invitation, more curious about Kakashi than hungry. They sit together at Ichiraku in silence again but Iruka is much too relieved about Naruto's safe return to care. Up until they finish their meal and walk home. He realizes they're both walking to the direction of his apartment. 

"Kakashi-san."

Kakashi glances back at him, already a few paces left behind. "Why do you always come to my home? Not that you're not welcome. You are, of course but..."

Kakashi turns to him fully. And waits. He wonders if the sharingan works under that cover and if it could read his thoughts.

"Why?" There's a hollow in his stomach again.

Kakashi's slouch straightens slightly, almost unnoticed if it wasn't for the shift of the shadows on his vest. He looks up and rubs his neck. Iruka's never paid him that kind of attention but his eyes follow the movement. 

"Does it bother you?"

Iruka shakes his head. They're in the middle of the street in the middle of the night in the middle of a very awkward conversation. And the hollow in his gut starts to shift. 

"Ah, well," Kakashi starts softly. "I'm not sure."

It had been such a nice evening. It would be quite disrespectful to ruin it with more questions. Iruka offers him a smile instead. He feels a tiny bit indestructible himself, for just a second.

"Shall we head back then?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's called butterflies, Iruka.


	6. Chapter 6

"You're distracted." The voice hidden behind the leaves says evenly.

The fact that Kakashi comes back to the moment, mind coming from elsewhere, proves the man right. He had been thinking about Iruka, about that night he had waited for hours outside his bedroom after a long mission only to realize he had been intruding. Iruka already had another guest.

"As are you," he responds, unmoving in the shadows of a tree. 

The man steps out of the bushes, without threat. His hands are held out, palms up. The circles under his eyes are dark and it's not from the mutual stalking.

"The pups are coming tonight," the man says. Kakashi stares at him fully before hanging his head. "They're my first."

"Could be your last," Kakashi says.

"Could be my last."

"Let me do my job and I'll let you do yours."

The softness is becoming quite familiar to him lately. Kakashi thinks he is getting old, going soft. There are other factors, of course, but now is hardly the time to dwell on that. While Kakashi has been skilled and dutiful, he is not without mercy when he can afford it. 

The man throws him a scroll and disappears. It's a fake but Kakashi lets him have his evening, lets him hold his newborn children bloody and wailing. In the morning, he waits in the awning of the man's home with a kunai in his grip.

Because Kakashi is a patient man. He will wait in the shadows to strike at the perfect opportunity with the calm, even heartbeats. Days will go by and his joints will scream agony but this patience allows him to slit a man's throat in silence and to drag his body to the fields to find the scroll he really needs out of his clothes. Patience is part of his duty.

It is the only virtue he was taught. But what comes after he washes his hands clean, the anticipation, is something he lets himself learn like a bad habit. He learns to run back to the village in broad daylight, instead of walking in the safety of the dark, back to a place that makes him feel more like a man and less like tool. He learns to cradle that flutter in his chest when the village comes into view. He learns that good things come to those who wait. That Iruka would have tried to stay awake all night to wait for him to--

Kakashi stops in his tracks. A roof shingle cracks under his foot. He turns back because if a shinobi doesn't kill him first, this will.

Iruka will end up waiting all night again.


	7. Chapter 7

Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never been a teacher to pre-genin on Valentines Day. Iruka spends the better part of the day getting assaulted with flowers and chocolate from tiny little children, all hopelessly and openly offering their hearts to their dear teacher. Even Naruto, now a young adult, pops into his classroom with a couple of pretty bouquets. One of which ends up on top of the pile of gifts on Iruka's desk.

"I wish I could take you to dinner, Iruka-sensei, but, uh." Naruto flushes.

Iruka can't help himself and hugs Naruto with an arm. His other arm is occupied with a rather large bag of chocolates.

"Well, don't keep Hinata waiting now." Naruto chuckles awkwardly, holding the other bouquet to his chest. And before he can ask, Iruka adds, "I'm sure she'll enjoy them very much. Go now."

When Naruto and his students leave for the day, he suddenly feels a little lonely.

Iruka gathers his gifts to share them with everyone in the Mission Room during his shift. He'll get sick if he eats all the candies given to him and his eyes are starting to sting from all the flowers.

The chocolates don't last an hour in the Mission Room. Not only had Iruka fed all his colleagues, but he had been reduced to handing them out to people handing in their reports.

"How sweet of you, sensei," Asuma guffaws, blushing slightly when Iruka gives him a heart-shaped box of chocolates. "Here I thought you were going to yell at me for--"

"Asuma-san, please. This is the third time, just complete this form--legibly please--before you hand it to me," Iruka sighs.

"Ah, there it is!"

Some chuunin even leave the room dazed, blinking wordlessly at each other, with their arms full of flowers from Iruka. By the end of the day, only one bouquet is left. It's the ones Naruto gave him, kept safely in a bag under his desk.

It has been a tiring day but Iruka makes his way home happy. It's not often that they have days like these anymore. He makes a point to drop by the bookstore on his way to pick up something he had ordered a week ago. He even asks the store clerk to wrap it in the nicest paper they have.

When he comes home, he realizes that he is indeed feeling particularly lonely today. It's quite the same every year. Not that he needs someone, but having someone would probably be nice. He sets down the book on the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to put Naruto's flowers in a vase. He hears the living room window slide open and shut.

"Kakashi-san, have you eaten?" he calls from the kitchen. No response. He automatically assumes injury and almost runs to the living room.

Kakashi is unscathed. He is eyeing the package on the table rather intently. Then Iruka.

"That's for you," he explains.

"For me?" Kakashi points to himself, making Iruka laugh.

When he opens it, it is a used copy of _Icha Icha_. The early one that's no longer in circulation. Kakashi doesn't take his eye off it as he takes his vest and mask off with one hand, already on his way to laying down on the floor. He hums thanks, pleased.

Iruka is, as well. He goes back to the flowers on his sink but the sound of something being put on the table catches his attention. He looks back and it's a box from the confectionery shop he always stops by on his way home but never buys from because it's way too expensive. His name is scrawled on the tag attached to it.

"How romantic," Kakashi giggles, his back turned to Iruka, as he turns another page.

Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never had Kakashi Hatake on their living room floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Whoever said romance is dead is probably a jounin who is out of town on a mission around any holiday considered even a little romantic so often that they had forgotten Valentines Day was even a thing. They might have even been in the village one Valentines Day and might have gotten someone a very special and very expensive box of sweets because they were on sale that day for some reason they don't remember. They might have been an avid reader of _Icha Icha_ , arguably the most romantic literary series on this side of the country, because the plot really is engaging but they don't get why standing in the rain to have a long conversation is supposed to be lovely.

They might have been Kakashi Hatake.

"Where are you going?" Kakashi asks Iruka for the first time. He's been watching his host seated in front of the mirror for longer than usual. Iruka almost chokes.

"Out," he says.

Kakashi stares, curious, because it's late in the evening and Iruka's hair is particularly shiny and in place as he pulls it into a low loop. He even smells nice, Kakashi notices. "It's late."

Iruka's jaw sets and Kakashi quickly sits up from the floor where he'd been reading. "I don't see how that's any of your business," Iruka says tightly.

Kakashi is careful not to let his chakra spike before he can figure out why it's in danger of doing so. "Ah, my apologies. Have a good time then."

Iruka spends the rest of the time getting ready, humming to himself, all the while Kakashi is back on the floor with a book open. But he's not reading. He watches Iruka's earlier mood soften. He looks like he's in a good mood.

"Well, I'm off now," Iruka starts. "Uh...do I look okay?"

He stands in the middle of the living, not looking spectacularly different but he really smells good.

"Yes," Kakashi says, not blinking. Iruka smiles, sheepish, before leaving quietly. He's not dense; he realizes Iruka is on his way to a date. He just doesn't understand why Iruka waits for something like this to treat himself so gently, to pull his hair into a looser tie, to slather his skin in some oil that smells really--really what was that smell?

The moment he loses track of Iruka's chakra, probably too far from him, and closer to his companion for the evening, Kakashi gets a hollow feeling in his stomach. He sits up and focuses on it. He must just be hungry.

In the kitchen he find a plate of broiled saury with a note tucked under the plate.

_There is also miso in the pot when you get hungry._

The hollow in his stomach starts to ache. He summons Pakkun and sends him away to fetch someone then eats alone.

By the time, he finishes eating, he cleans up and heads to the bath. He's not feeling much better but he has just come back from a long mission. When Kakashi finds that the covered tub is filled with hot water for him, probably scalding like he prefers from earlier, he thinks he might as well do what he had been thinking of doing since Iruka left. He makes his way back to the living room and opens the window.

There, an Anbu in a cat mask awaits while Pakkun slipping inside lazily.

"You can't use us for your personal errands, Kakashi-senpai."

"And yet here you are." The moon is full tonight. It looks like an evening ripe for romantic strolls and stolen kisses in the shadow, if _Icha Icha_ is to be consulted. "Make sure he gets home safe."

And the ANBU leaps off into the dark.

Whoever said romance is dead probably didn't even know what romance was in the first place.


	9. Chapter 9

Iruka's apartment is usually filled with a calm ruffle of paper. The papers he grades make soft swishing noises as he piles them on top of each other, his pen making almost imperceptible scratches against the paper. Minutes are punctuated by the lazy turn of leaves in Kakashi's book. But today, Iruka is playing music.

"Naruto's client gave it to him as a special thank you," Iruka explains, chuckling. "I don't think it's his taste though."

Iruka had pulled out an old record player from deep in his closet but handled the record Naruto had gifted him with such ease that Kakashi figured, at some point, Iruka probably used it a lot. They set it on the coffee table and Kakashi observes the needle of the player fall on to the disc, the sound of a skipping scratch following. Then soft crackles, then the soft, high notes of a stringed instrument.

He knows the song.

Iruka gives it an approving nod, the corner of his lips tilting up, before he unfolds his legs from under him. 

"Iruka." It stops him on the spot. Their eyes meet and stay locked even when Kakashi does get up and goes around the table between them. The contact only breaks when Iruka eyes the hand held out to him. 

Meanwhile, the words start to float between them. An older voice, feminine, raspy almost, sings a familiar tune. Something they had heard at some point when they were Naruto's age. Young enough to listen, but not quite old enough to understand the words. Iruka recognizes it slowly.

Kakashi's hand reaches just a little bit more. And with not much else to do, he reaches for it.

Kakashi pulls him up gently where he finds himself feeling like he's thirteen again, heart so inexplicably full and foolish. Not once does Kakashi takes his eyes off Iruka, even when they start to sway from one for to another, just in time with the percussion that's starting to intertwine with the strings. 

It's an oddly intimate thing even when the only points of contact are between their hands and Iruka's hand atop Kakashi's shoulder. His gaze is somewhere else, knowing that Kakashi is watching, staring, makes him feels open and vulnerable.

The record skips right before the song ends, right before the woman is about to sing of late flowers finally blooming while all other petals fall away in spring. Then it stops. So do they, but neither one lets go for a moment. Iruka thinks of looking up and meeting Kakashi's eyes, perhaps blooming and falling, too. But Kakashi lets go and steps away before he can and the apartment is soon filled with the ruffle of paper again.

When Kakashi returns from a week-long mission, he brings back a new copy of the record and they play it once before going to bed.


End file.
